by Jami Wilsen
Mulder, still facing the stove, looked up at him briefly while he quickly
and deftly rolled sausages in a hot pan. "Good morning. Jesus, Alex, have
some common sense. You'll get chilblains walking around these floors with
your feet bare like that."
"Okay, Mom." His flippant reply did nothing to hide his surprise.
Mulder grinned at him. "Sorry about yesterday. I guess I lost it, huh?
But how do waffles sound? Will that make up for it?"
"Yeah, I guess. But only if they're edible." Alex shifted his weight from
one foot to the other. "Shit, this floor is freezing!"
"Told you," Mulder said, whipping a boiling pot off the back burner.
Walter came in the front door, stamping his feet. "It snowed last night,"
he declared. Then he caught sight of Alex's bare toes. He was about to
make a joke about warm thoughts and decided against it; that had been a long
time ago and he didn't want to recall the painful balcony episode to Alex's
mind. "We got about two inches. I just checked the generator though; we're
fine. Maybe later I could show you around, Alex; let you know all the
things you need to know about in the event of getting snowed in or a storm?"
"Yeah, sure." He shifted from one foot to the next continuously until
Walter chuckled.
"Get upstairs, boy! Get dressed before you freeze to death."
He took off his coat and hat, and then his boots. He went in to sit at the
kitchen table. Pouring himself a glass of orange juice, he remarked to
Mulder, "You seem chipper. What's gotten into you?"
Mulder didn't turn around; he was too intent on the food. "I've been
thinking. About us, and him, and what happened. About the past. You know
something, Walt? You were right."
"About what? Which part?"
Mulder sniffed and flipped an egg over. "I wasn't willing to give him a
chance. But I am now. If he meant us any harm, he could have already hurt
us."
"I know. I'm glad you agree. Does this mean... Are you okay with this,
then?"
Mulder turned with a glint in his eye and a little half-smile. "I guess
I'll have to be if I want to keep up. You didn't waste any time last night,
did you?"
Walter nearly choked on his swallow; the juice burned the back of his
throat. He was lost for a reply and before he could find one, Fox had
already turned back to the eggs.
But Fox's voice was easy, light. He didn't sound upset. "It's my turn
tonight. We'll have to set up a rotation, a schedule. God, Walt; I never
thought I'd see the day that we'd have Alex Krycek on a timeshare." He
shook his head slowly.
"Why so limited, Fox? Why not all three of us in my room? Bed's big
enough." But Walter was grinning hugely.
"Maybe later. He and I... we've got—things to sort out. You're not gonna
feel left out, are you?"
The genuine concern in his voice moved Walter. "No, no. Don't worry about
it. Besides, I need recovery time. I'm not as quick off the bat as you two
are. I think those days are over for me."
Mulder nearly dropped the spatula with anger and rounded on him, brandishing
it. "You are not getting old! Don't you dare start using this as an
excuse to start complaining about your age."
Walter was laughing at him quietly. "Fox, Fox. I was referring to the fact
that there are two of you. Running from room to room trying to keep both of
you happy is a bit much. That's why I'm quite okay with relinquishing him
tonight, and why I still think it's a good idea for us all to get used to
the thought of my bed." He stopped, and chuckled. "Besides, last night was
a bit rushed. We were both too tired and it was too dark to really enjoy it
properly. These things are meant to be savored."
Mulder raised his eyebrows at him. "You're really taken with him, yourself.
Aren't you?"
Walter snorted. "You're one to talk. 'Let he who is without sin.' Christ,
three years of mooning over him and now that he's here we're scheduling him
in. But if you want him that badly, I won't fight over him."
Fox was about to retort to that but there was a noise upstairs, Alex closing
his bedroom door behind him, and he bit his lip, wanting both to scowl and
to chuckle, not really sure if he was upset or not. He felt differently
this morning, about everything. He was even a little ashamed at being
unable to control himself the previous day. His breakfast endeavor was an
attempt to make up for it. Although he was very aware that he was going
to have to talk with Alex later. The anticipation that ran through him at
that thought made him very glad he was busy over the stove. He felt nervous
and jittery. For fuck's sake; it wasn't like he had never felt like this
for anyone before. Maybe it was just knowing how the other man felt about
him. Overhearing Alex's tearful confession yesterday had struck him deeply.
At first he'd just been stunned, later he'd felt ashamed. Now he didn't
know how he would be able to hide his nervousness from either of them.
Alex was coming downstairs and had let his footfall warn them he was there.
Walter looked up as he came in to join them. A red and gray checkered
flannel shirt and simple jeans gave him a rustic look; he looked as though
he'd been living here for years.
"You'll fit right in," Walter commented, letting his gaze caress him warmly.
"Sit down; help yourself to the waffles." He nodded at the plate that was
piled high in the center of the table.
Alex looked almost startled at the welcoming tone, the obvious admiration in
Skinner's eyes. He sat down at the table, feeling self-conscious.
Mulder turned, holding a skillet and the spatula. "Eggs? Hash browns?" His
apron was now clearly visible.
Alex took one look at the apron and couldn't help himself, bursting into
quiet laughter as he tried to suppress it, without much luck. Finally,
sniggering, he asked, "'Kiss me, I'm the cook,' or even Garfield, I could
understand, but—a French maid?"
"It was his idea," Mulder muttered. "He gave it to me for my birthday
last month." He turned away, mumbling under his breath.
"I'll have to order you something appropriate, Alex," Walter mused. "For
Christmas."
"A pair of charcoal gray shorts; with two fried eggs on either cheek,"
Mulder suggested, bringing eggs and other fried foods to the table,
unloading them onto their plates.
"No, those are for you," contradicted Walter. "I doubt Alex here will need
as much correctional attention as you do. No, I think something more
fitting—"
"Jesus, Walt. Any tighter fitting than those and he's not gonna be able to
sit down." Mulder was indicating Alex's jeans. Then stopped, obviously
wishing he hadn't said anything to make it so plain that he'd noticed them.
The jeans. The tightness of them. That he'd been looking. That they
looked so good on him... Mulder turned and fled back to the stove.
Walter acted as though he hadn't noticed this, although he did look up at
Alex and give him a surreptitious wink and said, "Not being able to sit down
is not always a result of tight jeans. You should know that from
experience, Fox." He regarded Alex. "Actually, I'm surprised you can sit
down this morning. But no, you need something else, something a little more
suave."
Mulder coughed. "Suave!? I get the French maid and he gets suave!?"
"Well, how about a compromise then? A French gentleman?"
"I thought he was Russian. Aren't you, Alex?"
Alex was taking all this in mutely, not quite sure how to enter the banter.
Walter caught his eye and smiled warmly at him, with a little shake of his
head. Almost as if to say, don't worry, just go along with it. And then
Walter supplied, "I meant appropriate. Like a fishing rod or something.
He's going to have to help bring in the trout now. We all earn our keep,
remember? And don't worry, Fox, I won't make you cook it. Hell, I won't
let you near any fish I catch."
"Suits me," Mulder shrugged, coming to sit down at the table, sans apron.
"I won't clean them either."
"Why not?" Alex asked.
"I don't like the way they stare at me."
"Fox gets freaked out by their eyes as they lay there on the counter,"
Walter put in, dryly. "He won't eat them if they have their heads still
attached, either."
"I guess that rules out fish-head bouillabaisse, then," Alex suggested.
Mulder frowned, suspicious that he was the butt of a joke that he couldn't
quite grasp. It wasn't funny to him. Fish eyes staring bug-like up at him
without blinking was a reminder of aliens, out of some strange association
his mind had made in the past.
But Walter regarded Alex with renewed interest. "My god, someone who
understands real food. What a relief. Can you cook, too?"
Alex smiled. "If you dare to let me in the kitchen, yeah."
"Uh-huh. Who's all domesticated now, then?" Mulder murmured, into his
eggs.
Walter found it very interesting that Mulder had refused to look at Alex
even once so far. Apart from his jeans. He grinned, and caught Alex's eye
again. "Wait until he hears about the rotation," he said to Mulder.
Who froze and then said quickly, "Can't that wait?"
Alex was looking from one to the other, lost again. "Rotation?"
Walter's lips twitched but he took pity on Fox who was looking rather tense
and red-faced. "Later. We'll have to work out who does what." And whom,
he thought. Ah, Fox, you have no idea how obvious you are. It's kind of
cute, but you're such an amateur. Alex is a sure thing. There's no need to
get so flustered.
He addressed Alex again. "If you cook, we do the dishes. And don't worry,
we won't patronize you by making allowances for your arm, except where you
decide you want to. You've proven you can be more than able with what you
have."
Alex gave a small smile. "Thanks. Actually, I can do a lot more with this
one than you might think. I've got rudimentary control over the fingers and
the grasping action. There's a slight delay in timing but it's pretty good.
I have to be careful sometimes; they're stronger than actual fingers. So,
don't worry about it."
Walter noticed the hasty glances that Alex would cast at Fox, as if he dared
not be caught lingering over him. As if he too was afraid their eyes would
meet. Walter privately hoped this adolescent behavior would stop after
tonight; it was stressful enough after having to go through yesterday's
problems. He took another waffle. "Help yourself, Alex."
"I'm going to be working again today. Collating research," Mulder explained
for Alex's benefit. "What are you guys going to do?"
Walter lifted his chin at Alex, motioning with his fork before swallowing.
"I was thinking of going hunting. Care to join me? We could do with more
meat in the freezer before we get more snow. It would give you a chance to
get to know the countryside, let you know what our area is like."
"Yeah, sounds good," Alex said, an interested tone entering his voice.
Almost eager.
"Great, that'll get us out of Fox's hair and keep us outside for a while.
After we're done here?"
"Sure." Alex's smile was definitely more eager this time; he was warming to
the idea.
Mulder was trying not to stare at him. Alex's face transformed when he
smiled. Particularly when it was a real one; he looked so much younger,
freer.
And then Alex was peering at him, a hasty glance in his direction out of the
corner of his eye. Their eyes met. And slid away. Mulder realized he was
holding his breath. He forced himself to concentrate on his plate. Alex
was wondering why he felt like he was walking on eggs here.
Walter of course watched this little exchange with interest. "Are we back
in school, kids?" he asked, gently.
"Yeah, well, you know," Mulder dissembled, "nothing like a little sexual
tension to lighten the mood."
Walter took in Alex's blush and Mulder's nerves. "Fine. I want to avoid a
repeat of yesterdays' affair with the knife and the tumble on the floor. We
might as well get this right out in the open. Alex, Fox and I were
mentioning that we might try a rotation. You know, take it in turns who
gets a good night's sleep and who doesn't?"
"That's one way to put it," Mulder said with a slight smile.
"Well, it's my turn to get some sleep, tonight." Walter was grinning again.
Alex swallowed and went very still.
Mulder sucked in a breath. "God, I can't take this." He stood up abruptly,
leaned over the surprised Alex and caught him by the chin to plant a kiss on
his lips. He then strode out of the kitchen into the living room and turned
on his computer, out of sight.
Alex sat in stupefaction while Walter smiled at him. "You okay?"
Clearing his throat and regarding his plate again, his fork forgotten in his
hand, Alex replied, "Yeah." ...Not. Why did Mulder do that? Was he having
second thoughts? Did he have a chance with him? Was Mulder going to forgive
him? Did this mean that Mulder might really want to spend tonight with
him? He forced himself with an effort to keep his attention on Walter.
"Good. Because I think we're on kitchen detail."
Mulder sat before the monitor without really seeing it, listening to Walter
and Alex chatting about god knows what; he couldn't really hear. Bless
Walt, he thought, for keeping them from getting too heavy. If Walt wasn't
here, Mulder suspected he would have ended up wrestling Alex to the floor
and dry-humping him. At the thought of this, though, he flashed on the
memory of what it felt like yesterday and a hint of shame and anger went
through him. He pulled up his files, opening them with angry jabs of his
fingers on the keys.
He was soon engrossed though and even the reemergence of Walter and Alex
from the kitchen wasn't enough to distract him. At least, he hoped that's
what they thought. He absently waved a hand as they passed through, telling
him they were going out soon. He didn't dare think of what it meant, that
he'd just kissed him... it wasn't enough and he wanted to do it again,
properly.
Alex went upstairs for a shower and Walter pottered about readying things
for their hunting trip. By the time he'd finished, Alex hadn't yet come
back downstairs and Mulder found himself with of a pair of heavy hands on
his shoulders, kneading him. And then Walter placed a kiss on the back of
his neck. "You okay, then? We'll be back in a while. Takes a while to get
there, as you know. And then there's the stakeout. And if we do get
something, we'll have to pack it up. I expect we'll be gone all day."
Mulder considered the screen. "I'll be fine. I just need some time to
think about it more. Maybe being alone here will give me the space I need."
"Alright. You know, you don't have to go through with this. Maybe both of
you need more time to adjust."
"Walt, we spent years dancing around it. I've spent more than enough time
avoiding him, and the issue. Pretending it wasn't there, that it would go
away. It was only through hating him that I could ignore the way he
looked. I think I subconsciously understood the danger of falling for him
when we met. In a way, if he hadn't betrayed me it would have been my
undoing, 'cause I don't think I would have been able to resist him.
Especially," Mulder laughed now, "if I'd had anything to do with refitting
his wardrobe!"
Walter chuckled and kissed his ear before standing up and going over to put
on his coat. "I hear that."
So do I, thought Alex, at the top of the stairs. Weird. It looked like
Mulder was beginning to crumble fast. He thought it would have taken a lot
longer, but maybe Walter was right; Walter had been working on him for some
time now, and had also hinted that many other issues had been sorted in
Mulder's mind over the last year or two. Maybe Mulder was actually going to
prove he could get past his denial of their relationship and their dynamic
sooner. Alex wasn't sure that he could, though. Shaking his head, he
wondered how he was supposed to explain to Mulder that he would do anything
at all for him... just to be accepted by him here... without losing face.
Without Mulder looking down his nose at him. He thoughtfully went
downstairs to join Walter at the front door.
As they pulled on their outside gear Walter opened the front door. "Well,
so much for the snow," he reported. "It's already slush. Should make life
interesting. Those waterproof?" he pointed at Alex's boots.
"Yeah, of course."
"Good. We're going slushing. Bye, Fox."
Alex looked over at Mulder, hesitantly. "Bye."
Mulder caught his eye and held it. "Come back in one piece."
Alex nodded and then ducked his head, obviously wanting to say more and
deciding not to.
He listened as they got into Walter's fancy jeep and drove off. He sighed.
God damn but Alex Krycek looked good. Why did he have to be so fucking
pretty? WHY? It wasn't fair. If he were anyone else, Mulder knew he would
not have the slightest compunction to show any compassion whatsoever. But
Alex had that wounded look perpetually on his face like a shroud of
desperate hope, begging for the chance while trying to act tough. He
realized that he had always seen that look in Alex's eyes, every time he'd
hit him. Every time they'd met.
He sat, unmoving, cursing silently. Tonight. Tonight! He couldn't stop
thinking about it. It was a good thing they were going out, or he knew he
wouldn't have been able to stop himself from initiating something.
Anything! Walter must've known this. Now how could he go through with this
and still save face? He didn't want a repeat of yesterday's embarrassing
moment, when he'd realized Alex wasn't turned on by their contact and he
was. He worried next that Alex had feelings for him but they didn't
extend to the physical. But no, that couldn't be it either, or he would
have said something to Walt, and... Jeez, Alex was already with Walt, wasn't
he? He groaned aloud and went into the kitchen to make himself coffee. No
more distractions. He needed to get on with his notes. He would throw
himself into it and refuse to let himself think about Krycek, Krycek,
Krycek. Alex. Krycek. Dark lashes and that deliciously evil, beautiful
mouth. Fuckable mouth. Alex-fucking-Krycek. No.... fucking Alex...
Fuck! His cock leapt and he sighed. They'd be gone all day. His hand
moved to the front of his pants.
As they drove farther and farther northeast along a difficult trail, Alex
realized the severity of their location in terms of distance and placement
in the wilds. His approach had been along a dirt road—the only one. This
barely marked track was just a pair of indentations in the ground. They
ended up in a crawl, the tires feeling their way over every bumpy rock and
muddy pool.
Finally, Walter stopped and turned off the ignition and looked over at him.
"Well? Shall we?"
Alex's answering grin was good to see. Walter found himself wondering when
was the last time Alex had done anything for the fun of it, rather than for
survival, intrigue or Consortium planning.
As Walter got out on his side, Alex stepped out onto the ground and
experienced a moment of disorientation. What was he doing here? It was
hard to take it in; it was so different being here. The usual normality of
hotels, clandestine meetings, warped people and vicarious liaisons with
Rebel Aliens was so far away. All he had ever wanted was right here in the
palm of his hand, right now.
To have waited all these years for a normal life, to end up in this remote,
primordial place and find these two here, and together? It was surreal and
yet so fitting. His life was nothing if not interesting. He frowned,
wondering how long they actually had left together. He found a deep longing
to stay here forever, for the rest of his life.
"Deep thoughts, Alex?" Walter's voice was instantly grounding. He pulled
the backpacks and gun cases out of the back seat and slammed the door.
Alex smiled to cover the morbid flavor of his mood. He was feeling rather
overwhelmed by the emptiness of the vista, the paradoxically rich surrounds
of the landscape. There were distant craggy hills that led to farther
peaks, the wind sang slightly over the grass and although gray, the sky was
still bright. It was almost idyllic, despite the knowledge that the beauty
masked the dangers of this country. To be this far north and try to live
here all year round was quite an undertaking.
And it was sufficiently removed from any other countryside he'd ever
visited. He didn't have to suffer impressions overlaid from past
experiences that might have marred the beauty for him. No bad memories. It
was a welcome change. The experience of it was unspoiled and virgin, like
the land itself.
They each took a pack and a rifle, and went the rest of the way on foot.
Walter knew of an excellent place for watching for deer, elk and other
animals. There was wet snow everywhere. They might have been able to track
spoor and hoof prints in the snow but it was already melting. When they
reached the foothills there was a large, shallow riverbed with many dry
stones along the bottom and all along the sides. The dirt of the embankment
was smooth and offered a rise up out of tall grass, giving them a perfect
vantage point to observe passing wildlife. Luckily, they didn't disturb any
nesting river fowl as they set themselves up amidst the grass.
Then came the wait. Walter turned and whispered to him, "It's just a matter
of time, I think. They come along here to drink sometimes. I've had a lot
of luck with this particular spot."
"What are we looking for?"
"Something big enough to carve up for the winter. We've got one more supply
drop which we'll arrange in about a week, and then that's the last one until
the end of January, so we have to make it count. We can always make it into
town but they don't have everything. And this meat will do us for a while,
if we get something. Probably an elk, or a deer. They come down out of the
foothills to range around here. I'll let you take the shot, okay?"
Alex shrugged slightly. "If you want. I don't mind."
Walter smiled. "Hey, I didn't drag you all the way out here for nothing."
Alex took a deep breath. The air was heady, filling his lungs with the deep
scent of plants, grasses, even the smell of the water. It was a far cry
from the city and the petty rivalries of squabbling intelligence agencies.
The sharp tangy green scent of trees, dark green trees.
And he found he loved it. This was all so removed from the considerations
of conscience or duty, or loyalty, or even survival. This was primal. The
attempt to socially and personally integrate into their home here was
equally distant and seemed not as urgent as when he was in the house.
The distant call of birds and marshy bubbling of water and trickling streams
nearby, flowing in cracks into the riverbed, was broken only by the muted
sound of the wind blowing occasionally through the reeds and grasses where
they lay.
Silently, Walter's hand touched his elbow. He followed his gaze and saw a
large stag making his way down to the river. He was quite a long way off.
"Remember; through the heart, clean, one shot," Walter mouthed.
Alex nodded, training the sights.
There were a few minutes of silence, filled with heart-pounding thuds in
their eardrums as they waited for the stag to near them. Closer, closer. A
perfect shot. Lined up beautifully. Walter held his breath. Now. Now...
He waited. It was an excellent shot. Now. Now!
Alex lowered the rifle. "I can't," he whispered, hovering between misery
and surprise. "It isn't the same. He—he doesn't deserve it."
Walter turned his head, taking in his expression. Alex looked shocked,
looking down at the rifle with a puzzled stare.
Walter quickly lifted his own and brought it to bear on the stag's heart.
Gently squeezed the trigger. But then the stag was no longer there.
It was too late; they'd had their shot. If they were to get it, Alex should
have taken it in that few precious seconds. The stag was leaping away,
having perhaps overheard something that had carried on the wind. "Oh well.
You're lucky, little brother," Walter murmured. "Another time maybe."
Alex was staring out into the distance; somewhere in that direction the stag
was flying over streams and rocks amidst the trees, having reached the tree
line. "I'm sorry. I couldn't do it."
Walter thought he understood, at last partly. He was assailed by several
feelings at once. He identified some of them as relief and tenderness, and
a little frustration. He was glad Alex had discovered he couldn't shoot
indiscriminately, or take a life without just cause. He was also slightly
pissed that they'd missed the stag; venison made very good eating and he
didn't have any left in the freezers. He sighed to himself. Looks like it
was back to trout fishing in the backyard. Unless they stayed out here for
a good while more, it was unlikely they would get anything.
Gruffly, he observed, "At least you know that you can't kill without having
a good reason to. I'm kind of glad, Alex. It means I was right about you.
I took a chance on you, you know."
Alex's fingers were trembling and he looked pale. Shock, Walter thought.
Best to keep him talking. But Alex looked him right in the eye and said,
"It's still hard to believe that I'm here. That you want me here; either of
you. It kinda takes some getting used to, you know?" He shook his head and
put the rifle down, turning and laying on his back to regard the sky. "I
shouldn't have come out here. I should've let you go alone. I lost the
deer for you. I'm sorry."
"Nonsense," Walter said firmly, sitting up and stretching. He rummaged in
his backpack and took out coffee and a sandwich. "The main reason we came
out here was to get you out of the house. I wanted you to see some of the
countryside, get a feel for where we are. All of this is our territory.
And I'm glad, too, because it shows me that you aren't the ruthless killer
we all thought you were, including yourself, Alex."
"That's generous of you to say so. Still, I am sorry, Walter." Alex sat up
to lean on his elbow, accepting the offer of coffee in one of the thermos
lids from Walter. "I feel alive here, out here with you. In this place. I
don't mean just here and now. It's like I've been running for so long I
forgot what it was like to stand still without feeling like either that deer
or the hunter."
"You're both. If you can feel it and remember it, let it start to drop away
and just take pleasure in being here, now... That's when you stop being the
hunter or the hunted and become saved. You have to save yourself by letting
it happen. Believe me, it took us months before we stopped jumping at every
little sound, expecting people to jump out at us from around every corner.
Before we could remember what it might be like to just live and not be so
concerned with what the rest of the world was doing."
Alex looked past him, surveying the cold terrain and the distant mountains.
"I like it here. I could get used to it. I don't think it would be very
easy for me to leave." He stopped himself short at this, wishing he hadn't
said it aloud. He'd quickly gotten so used to spilling everything he was
thinking to Walter that he hadn't realized what he was revealing. He shot a
terrified glance at him; sure that he'd overstepped his boundaries this
time.
Walter smiled reassuringly. "Six months is a long time. I'm willing to bet
that if you try to leave us at the end of it, Fox and I will both threaten
to chain you to the bed and not let you go."
Alex licked his lips and looked down on the ground, at the lumpy grass they
were lying on. "I'm not used to this. I don't know—how to act. What to
say. I'm not used to being wanted." He looked up, meeting Walter's gentle
eyes. "I feel like a wild animal and I don't know how to be... like Fox is.
So domestic."
"He was wrong," commented Walter. "You're not a rat, you're a wolf. Wolves
are pack animals; they can live alone and survive, but it makes them lonely.
There's a part of you that'll always be wild and I don't think that should
change. But that doesn't mean living in splendid isolation in an ivory
tower somewhere, letting your heart wither away. Let me assure you that you
are welcome here; you're part of this family, if you want to stay."
Alex only nodded, not trusting himself to speak around the lump that had
suddenly developed in his throat.
"Believe me, I know how much that means to you." Walter sighed. "I missed
out on that feeling for years, and trying to get Fox through his pain in the
beginning was bad, too. He lost his sister, then his father, then his
mother. He had only his partner and his boss, and a few close friends. Not
even that, towards the end."
But Alex's expression went mournful and clouded at the mention of Mulder's
father. Damn, thought Walter. Should've remembered. Still, there was no
sense in hiding from it and pretending it wasn't important. It would've
come up at some point soon, anyway.
"Another skeleton in the closet," Alex said, tersely.
"Stop it," Walter said, putting more of a command into his voice. "Feeling
sorry for yourself isn't an option. There's no need to. You'll have to
apologize to him at some point for that. But you have to stop letting
yourself die slowly in that guilty loop you keep running in your head all
the time." Impulsively, he got up and moved the last few inches to sit
beside him, pushing the startled man once more onto his back and resting his
weight with his forearm on his chest, against his thick winter coat, holding
him down. Leaning over him, he brought his mouth down to cover Alex's
warmly, before pulling back and adding, "Any time you need punishing for
that, you let me know. Don't let Fox drive you into a guilt cycle over his
father. Hell, he wasn't even his father. And it's a hell of a better way
to release all that anxiety than pushing yourself to the brink of suicide,
or pulling away from people who care about you, who can forgive you."
Alex shook his head slightly. "I don't get it, I don't. Yesterday, when
you—when you punished me... What is it about that; why do you do it? How
can you not... not find it exciting?"
Walter searched his face, carefully. "Does it excite you?"
He swallowed, hesitating. "Yeah. With you, yeah. I guess."
"Then maybe you need another form of punishment instead. Maybe your
punishment needs to be in the form of acceptance, of loving. To know that
you are forgiven."
"You're serious, aren't you!? How is that a punishment?"
Walter leaned closer, stopping just before his lips touched Alex's and
whispered, "I love you; I care about you. I'm here for you, just as much as
I am for Fox."
Alex gulped and closed his eyes, trying to counter his immediate reaction of
his eyes tearing up at this, with a nervous reply, "Okay, alright. I get
it."
"You think I'm just saying that to prove a point?" Walter pressed his lips
to him, once, pulling back once again.
Too much love... Alex let out his breath, hissed, "How can-!" And then
demanded, "Why? Why do you—" He couldn't bring himself to say it. And then
abruptly changed the subject. "I'm sorry, I meant to tell you this morning.
I'm clean; completely. I had myself tested before coming out here. I just
wanted you to know. After last night?"
Walter shook his head slowly with amazement. "Talk about changing the
subject... Okay, I'm glad to hear that. So are we. So, you don't mind if I
fuck you right here, right now? Since you're so 'available' and all?"
Alex closed his eyes again and bit his lips. "I don't think I've had this
much sex, this frequently, in years. I haven't exactly had a steady
partner, you know?"
"If I'm moving too fast for you, you have to let me know," Walter said,
instantly contrite. "I don't mean to push you."
Alex relaxed, looking up at him, steady. "Why do you want me? I don't get
it."
"I don't know," Walter admitted. "I think it might have something to do
with—with how beautiful you are, for a man. I mean, I love Fox. I really
do. He's incredible to me. But you're different. Incredible in another
way entirely. I don't know. Maybe it's because you have so much... need in
you. You remind me of a broken child, a little brother of long-lost
relation from a long time back. I just know that you're worth the effort."
Then he gave up, losing himself instead in the sheer sensation of kissing
the man under him hard, deeply. Not letting him up even as he began to run
out of breath, until Alex was desperately breathing in through his nose and
making little moans against him.
He began to taste his lips, to slide his tongue between them, loving the way
Alex returned his kiss, letting his own tongue battle with his. Walter
released him suddenly and lifted his head, leaving Alex gasping.
A slow grin overtook him and he looked down at Alex. "Those perfect teeth,"
he murmured. And then said, "Did you know that apart from you and I and
that stag, there is no living soul for ten, maybe twenty miles around?"
"Yeah. So?"
"So it doesn't matter if you scream or not." He continued to grin down at
him.
It was an expression that gradually found its way across Alex's face as
well. "What about bears?"
"Hell, they're probably all looking for somewhere to hibernate."
"Moose?"
"I didn't see any. Did you?"
"Badgers?"
"You're reaching now. Give it up."
"Wolves?" Alex's grin was positively sparkling, making him catch his
breath.
"Only the one I've got right here," he muttered and captured those lips
again, this time savagely sucking at them until they were swollen.
Meanwhile, their hands were busy trying to loosen their clothing.
The sharp cold air on their skin was a marked contrast to the heat of their
bodies against each other. The cold also had the interesting effect of
bringing their nipples into relief. Walter placed ravaging kisses and
little bites all the way down the smooth chest, past the navel, following a
trail to the treasure below. Alex's cock was a dark red in the cold and
when Walter's mouth engulfed the head, he cried out. As Walter began to
slide up and down in a lewd, outright motion, he bucked against him and
broke out with alternately incoherent entreaties and curses. The heat of
Walter's mouth was like a hot, wet glove wrapped tightly around him and he
couldn't stand it. Shuddering, he gasped, "I can't—I'm gonna—oh god—"
Walter didn't let up, merely sucked harder, and then Alex was thrashing
ineffectually, with strangled cries, his hot fluid spilling out onto
Walter's tongue. Walter drank him in, all of it, everything, the contrast
of the cold and heat of their bodies, the salt and the bitter taste of him,
the joy and the sadness of brushing away yet a little more of Alex's
loneliness. There was so much. So new. The lightness of the sky and the
whiteout of the overcast winter clouds. The rushing noise and buzz in their
ears of the silence that surrounded them. And finally, as he let Alex's
drained and tired cock slip from between his lips, Walter looked up at the
face of the panting creature he'd subdued.
"Guess I caught me something after all," he said, in a low voice.
"God. Fuck," Alex breathed. "I'm... that was..."
"Yeah, yeah. They all say that afterwards. Get your breath back," he
ordered, with a smile.
Alex lifted his head, seeing Walter's still-erect state. "Oh, yeah.
Right." He sank back, taking a few gulps of air. "Sure thing, Walt. Lay
down."
Walter was waiting for him and finally Alex sat up with another grin. Then
pounced, holding him down. "Games, huh? The hunter becomes the hunted.
Let's see what you've got, big man."
"Come on, I'm not that big," protested Walter.
Alex snorted with derision. "Yeah, right. You forget last night I had that
monster up my ass; believe me, I couldn't help but notice." And he
squirreled backwards until he was face to face with the cock in question.
Slowly and deliberately teasing him, Alex ran his tongue lightly along its
length, allowing it to cool rapidly. He didn't take his mouth away for one
instant, yet kept it wet all over until Walter was moaning. Meanwhile, his
hand was rolling his balls gently, enjoying the heavy weight of the sac.
"Jesus, damn it—Alex! Just do it, already! It's freezing out here!"
With a wicked chuckle, Alex finally went down on him, letting the engorged
and straining cock have the relief of being enveloped in the heat of his
mouth. With a few practiced sucks and with the head right against the back
of his throat, suddenly Walter was coming, filling his mouth with the
bitter, salty flood. He swallowed, repeatedly. Then licked his cock clean,
until Walter was begging him to stop for the sensitivity, particularly in
the cold.
Panting, Walter said, "God damn, boy; if you can give head like that,
there's no way you're leaving! I'll keep you tied up in the basement if you
try to go. That's a promise."
They pulled up their pants; the cold of the wind was too chill and biting to
keep themselves bare for long. And then Alex was lying atop Walter, hugging
him desperately, tightly. "I can't believe this is really happening," he
said in a raw voice. "I keep thinking I'll wake up and it'll all just be a
dream. But I can't think where I would've come up with this good a dream!"
Walter found himself awkwardly trying to pet him, to soothe him. "I know
how you feel; I do, believe me, I do."
A whuffing sound to their right suddenly disturbed them and lifting their
heads, they tried to find out where it was coming from. As they sat up they
found themselves face to face with a large moose, about ten feet away. It
stared at them and they stared back.
It seemed they were in a stalemate. The moose had wandered up on them
because it had been concentrating on the grass, not expecting to find them
there. And of course they had thought they would have noticed the approach
of something that huge out here.
It was a very big creature. Very big. Up close, it seemed larger than
life. It was a bull, and mature, with an impressive rack of antlers. They
did the only thing they could do. They sat, not daring to move.
Unfortunately, the moose had the same idea. Time stood still.
With remarkable presence of mind and alacrity, born of years of
self-preservation and assassin-honed instinct, Alex suddenly swung his rifle
up and aimed true, straight for the heart, and pulled the trigger before
Walter could react. Before the moose could react. Next thing they knew,
the moose had jumped upwards into the air with the impact and was running.
But the poor creature was doomed. It was running blindly in a direction off
to the side, and made it only a few yards before collapsing in a heap.
Alex collapsed anew on the ground, staring up at the sky, panting. "Fuck,"
he muttered. "Great country, Walter. Thanks for taking me out here.
Nothing like a taste of the real thing, first-hand! Stags, blow jobs and
near-death experiences."
"This would happen the first time I bring you out here," observed Walter,
in a nearly accusatory tone.
"Oh? What happened the first time Mulder came out here?"
"Everything went smoothly. I had to take out the deer. But everything went
fine. Smooth."
Alex grinned at him, in a very good approximation of the wolf Walter had
likened him to. "What do you mean? The moose is dead. I took him out.
We're fine, everything's great. It did go smoothly."
"Alex. You're supposed to lie in wait and then shoot them from farther
away, not wait for them to walk up and step on you. He could have attacked
and gored us."
"Hey, it's me, here. You forget my training, my abilities."
Walter shook his head, climbing to his feet. "It was a wild bull moose,
Alex. Beginner's luck."
"What?!" Alex's exclaimed indignantly.
They were still arguing about it when they returned to the house, hours
later. It took a while to cut up the animal and get it packed. They had
taken as much as they could and worked fast, especially motivated by
Walter's warning that the smell and the blood would attract bears and other
predators. And of course dragging the meat back had been a heavy and
dangerous undertaking. Then there was the task of loading it into the
vehicle.
When they climbed wearily out and made it up to the steps of the front
porch, Mulder came out to greet them. Taking in their bloody appearance, he
smiled grimly. It took them all some time to get the meat unpacked and into
the freezers.
It was already growing dark by the time they washed the stench and grime
away, changed their clothes and gathered in the kitchen for a meal.
As they sat at the table downing potatoes and gravy, burgers and peas,
Walter declared, "Next time I'm going hunting alone."
Mulder threw him a look. "What, you didn't get enough? The freezers are
stuffed, Walt. Why would you need to go out again?"
"Between you being unable to hit anything and Alex waiting until we see the
whites of their eyes, it's a miracle that I'm still alive and that we have
any meat at all."
Alex grinned at him in reminder of why they hadn't heard the beast or seen
its approach. "It wasn't all my fault."
Walter nodded sagely. "Distraction. No more distractions when I'm
hunting."
"Distractions?" Mulder was none the wiser but he had caught the undercurrent
of their words.
Walter fixed Alex with a mock glare. "Yes. He can't shoot living creatures
it seems, unless they're about to run over him. Life threatening
situations; survival, self-defense... Right, Alex?"
Mulder stopped and regarded Alex with surprise.
Alex was suddenly more interested in his food.
"I guess we underestimated you," Mulder said, in way of apology to him.
"Don't worry about it," Alex replied, still not looking up, obviously
anxious to leave it alone.
"The only thing I really don't like is the amount we had to leave behind.
What a waste." Walter didn't like leaving as much as they had.
"Well, think of it this way—it isn't really a waste because about right
now, a pack of wolves and a couple of dancing bears are tucking into it,"
Mulder said, helping himself to the gravy.
"What about cougars?" Alex asked.
Walter lifted a brow and nodded. "Possibly."
"Yeah, if you hear a scream that sounds like a woman being murdered? It's
probably a mountain lion. We heard one this summer." Mulder frowned at the
memory. "It was blood-curdling."
They continued to share past encounters they'd had with the local animals
with Alex until Walter began yawning expansively.
"I'm fading fast, here," he said, taking in the time on the wall clock.
"It's after eight. I'm going to get in some reading and then hit the sack.
It was quite a day."
"Yeah. Hacking up moose isn't all it's cracked up to be," commented Alex.
As Walter got up and stretched, left the table to wander into the living
room and settle himself with his book, Alex and Mulder began to clear the
dishes away. They worked well together, quickly and efficiently,
anticipating each other's moves and not once coming to any disagreement
about what to do or how to do it. In fact, it was slightly frightening;
they made such a great team. As this dawned on Mulder, he found himself
staring at the empty, submerged pot he was scrubbing.
Alex was drying dishes with a cloth. He noticed Mulder's frozen state.
"What? What is it?"
"We work really well together."
"Yeah. We do." He looked around the kitchen. "So?"
Mulder chewed his lower lip and looked up at him. "We're good partners. We
team up well."
Not knowing how to reply to that, Alex looked away, down at the dishes on
the draining board and returned to drying them and putting them away by
trial and error. If he didn't find the obvious place for the item, he
placed it on the table for a more thorough search afterwards.
Mulder resumed his own scrubbing, although he was far from discarding this
notion and continued to think on it. Partnership. The reason Alex's
original betrayal had hurt so much was that Mulder had found himself wanting
to believe he was sincere. He didn't have to explain everything all the
time like he did with Scully, and Alex had seemed eager, sympathetic to his
ideas. It all seemed so far away now.
It didn't take long before the kitchen was done. Alex quietly excused
himself and went upstairs.
Mulder sat down at the kitchen table. He didn't resent the fact that Walter
had offered as much to Alex as he had. In fact, he was surprised that he
wasn't upset about it at all. Perhaps it was because he was so sure of his
own place with Walter that he couldn't see Alex as anything but a
distraction up until now. With Walter, that is. For himself... god. It was
more than a blow to his world, it was a stick of dynamite in his reality.
Not to mention his pants... he was sick of sprouting a boner every time Alex
entered the room. He rubbed his face with both hands, tiredly.
He could no longer pretend even to himself that he didn't want him. He felt
assailed by disgust for his own embarrassment at feeling the desire, as well
as the desire itself. How could he want Alex? Even though Walter had been
able to take the steps in maturity towards forgiveness for what the man had
done to him in the past, Mulder wasn't sure he could. And his own
attraction to him muddied the water. He wanted Alex Krycek. Fiercely.
Badly. He tried to remember when it had started. He couldn't. All he knew
was that somewhere along the way, rage and hurt had been joined with the
desire and he felt angry that he couldn't tell when or how it had smuggled
itself in.
He doubted very much that simply fucking him was going to defuse the
outstanding issues between them. If he thought about it any deeper, he
always came to the same barrier. His father's murder, Scully's abduction— a host of numerous other crimes and painful episodes that he'd suffered and
in which Alex Krycek had somehow been implicated in, on whatever level.
He could hardly dismiss all of that. How could he defuse the issues without
dismissing them? If he focused on any single one of them, he felt rage rise
like bile and he wanted to bite his tongue to stop himself from getting up
in anger from where he sat. Why was sex and hatred both so tied up in his
reactions to the man?
And why, how, could the ratbastard actually propose that he 'loved' him?
That was somehow terrifying to him. He'd always thought that Krycek had a
thing for him, ever since he'd kissed him that night he gave him the tip
about the Rebel leader held at Wiekamp Base. He'd thought it another Krycek
mind-fuck special, a production for Mulder's benefit; a means of confusing
him and making him wonder at Krycek's motives and his own reasons for the
kiss. What it came down to in the end was that he'd gone merely on Krycek's
word, sealed with his kiss and the fact he'd given him back his gun, leaving
himself wide open for Mulder's shot at the time.
It was true; every time they met up, he'd gone for Krycek and the man had
never done anything to hurt him back, had only protected himself where he
could, in self-defense. If Krycek, no, Alex, had done it because he was
'in love with him?'... that definitely changed the perspective. It meant that
what Alex had confessed the day before, during his spanking, had been
exactly as it sounded; that he believed he didn't have a chance with Mulder,
not for forgiveness or acceptance. Maybe for sex, but only tolerated in
their life here. Just because Walter took him under his wing didn't make it
a foregone conclusion that Mulder would, nor did it mean that he believed
him.
He sighed. Walter was right. He needed to talk with him, without falling
back into his usual reaction of hitting him just because he didn't like the
way he felt towards him.
He got up and went into the living room. Walter was asleep in his chair,
his glasses perched precariously. He shook him gently. "Walt, hey, Walt— why don't you go upstairs?"
Walter took a deep breath. And stretched. "Yeah, I think I will. Thanks.
Hey, what about you?" He regarded him sleepily. "Are you going to... what
are you going to do?"
Mulder sat down near him, on the couch. Quietly, he said, "I need to talk
with him but I don't want... Walt, I can't just forgive him. Not just like
that. I mean, the things he's done, and everything. I can't."
Walter looked at him. Took another breath, looked about the room and said,
"Look, I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but I think it might help.
Yesterday, he began to respond to the punishment, as in he found it...
exciting. At first. And, I think that if you were to use that, as you
said, to let him know he's lowest in the pecking order here... or something.
Make a statement with it. He may not trust you to do that, because he knows
you hit him in anger. But then, there's the dynamic you two have, the
tension you still share that hasn't been taken care of. It might be one way
of dealing with it."
Mulder exhaled. "Walt, I don't think I could do that and have it be the
release you're suggesting. I'm too likely to—to use it as a way of, well,
a justified means of hitting him. You know?"
"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of, too. But then again, you'd be punishing
him in an acceptable form for things you feel he deserves punishment for.
Instead of just blindly lashing out at him. If you could get him to agree
with the reasoning of that. It's only a suggestion. I think we've shared
enough in our own relationship that you've learned where the line is, don't
you?"
Mulder considered this. "I'm still not sure I can trust myself to keep from
crossing that line, though."
"If you accept the responsibility of it, once you have him over your knee, I
promise you'll feel differently. The power of it will make it feel
different to you. You'll know exactly where the line is and you'll know not
to cross it. It's not the same as indulging in a loss of temper the way you
usually do."
Mulder snorted. "I'm not you. I'm not that good with responsibility, you
know that. You should be the one punishing him."
"Fox, I hate to tell you this but I can spank you—I can't spank him. Not
in the same way; sure, I can punish him if he does something wrong, but the
only punishment that works with him, if I'm to administer it, is kindness.
It's the affection. Love—he isn't used to being loved or cared for. It
makes him... vulnerable. And I think I've done him a disservice in revealing
that to you. You'd better make damn sure not to betray my trust in you by
abusing that."
Mulder closed his eyes and swallowed; he sighed. "Okay. I won't. I'll
remember, and keep that as my boundary, alright?"
Walter nodded with approval. "Good. And remember: whatever you believe,
he's still a wounded man. Push him too far and he'll run. I mean it, Fox.
We have a chance to help him heal, and to heal ourselves. Don't screw it up
over a matter of pride, okay? Whatever he's done, you can be the bigger man
by actually turning the other cheek. I know that's hard for you, given
what he's done. But I don't think he had many better choices to make. It
could easily have been you in his position if you'd been handed the same
choices. In the beginning, I mean."
Mulder snorted. "Right. Whatever. I won't push it. I won't."
Walter sighed and stood up. "Today was kind of rough, and yesterday was
ridiculous. Please don't let's have any scenes tonight? Fox? I'm begging
you here. I don't want to find you at his throat again."
Mulder sighed and grinned up at him. "Walt. Trust me. I'll handle it.
Get some sleep." He stood, reached over and let himself be pulled into
Walter's expansive embrace.
"Fox, I'm proud that you made it this far. I really am." Walter's voice
held a note of relief.
"You should be; I'm making sterling efforts. Just for you." Mulder was
grinning.
"I love you," Walter said, leaning back and regarding him at arm's length.
"And I love you, Walt," Mulder said, with a warm smile that might have been
mistaken as cheeky. "Get some sleep. I'll take care of our errant guest."
Walter leaned in and kissed him goodnight; they clung to each other briefly
until Walter was wracked by another yawn and chuckling, he went for the
stairs.
Mulder sat down heavily on the couch once more. Walter closed the door to
his bedroom upstairs. There wasn't a single sound from Kry—Alex's room.
Considering, he went upstairs himself, to his own room. He sat on the edge
of his bed, wondering if he trusted himself to visit the man next door
without losing his temper. Then berated himself. Of course he could. All
he had to do was stop feeling embarrassed about wanting him. Alex wanted
him, didn't he?
He realized that just hearing that Alex loved him wasn't enough; in fact,
that was open to interpretation. Alex thought he hated him; true enough, he
did, well, had for a long time. And Alex thought he wasn't good enough
for him... The memory from yesterday, of the tearful sobs, the pain in his
voice, the hopelessness in his eyes and the yearning expression that told
him he dared not even ask, every time he looked at him since...
Fuck, who was he kidding. The man was in love with him. He stood up and
decided to go before he lost his nerve. There was something irresistible
about knowing that someone felt that way for him. Would do anything...
He'd been waiting all day for this. Why should he worry about going through
with it, now? He wondered if what he were actually afraid of was Alex
refusing him, not wanting to go through with it.
Leaving his room, he crept to stand outside Alex's door and tapped on it
quietly. There was no reply. "Alex?" he called, keeping his voice down.
There was still no sound. Mulder sighed. Oh well. He had tried. He
slowly began to walk back down the hall and ended up going downstairs.
There, with the only light in the room coming from the fireplace, Alex was
sitting in his armchair. He looked up as Mulder entered the room. A wary
look stole onto his face and he immediately tensed. "Hey."
"What're you doing down here?" Mulder asked him.
A little frown crossed over him. "Don't want to sleep. Besides, it's too
early."
Mulder sat down in the couch. "Nightmares?"
"Don't," Alex started, "don't patronize me."
Mulder looked him over in the flickering light, thoughtfully sucking a
tooth. He reached into the bowl of sunflower seeds and began his little
ritual. Nibbling, he said, "Thank you for these. I appreciate it. No, I
do; really."
Alex looked away. "There's too much left unsaid, Mulder. I don't want—"
Mulder interrupted him. "Fox. You can call me Fox. It's only us here."
Alex stared back at him briefly before turning away. "Aren't you tired? I
am. So fucking tired." He kept his gaze on the fire. "Of everything."
Mulder regarded him thoughtfully. "I have a proposition for you."
"I'm not your houseboy, Mul—" he stopped. "I won't be. Not for you, not
here. Not now and not ever."
"You haven't even heard it yet," Mulder said in a teasing voice. When Alex
didn't reply, he continued, "Amnesty and a complete pardon, in exchange for
a punishment session. With me," he added, to make that clear.
Alex turned to him in disbelief. "From houseboy to whipping-boy, huh? No,
thanks; I'll pass."
"Think about it, Alex. I'll forgive everything you've ever done, if you let
me do that. I mean, shit rolls downhill, right? Walt gets to spank me— and so I get to spank you. Just this once. This one time only, I promise.
And I won't attack you or hit you anymore, that's over and done. I give you
my word on this."
Alex flared in anger. "Why?! What is about me that everyone thinks it can
all be straightened out with a simple spanking?"
Mulder grinned at him, at the way he'd left it so wide open. "I dunno,
Alex. Maybe it's your ass? It does kind of attract attention, you know."
Alex let out a frustrated breath. "I felt stupid enough laid out over
Walter's lap. If you think I'm going over yours, you're wrong."
"A complete and total pardon," Mulder repeated. He spread his hands. "Hey,
I can wait, if it's too soon. I understand; I had a taste of it myself
yesterday, remember? He's got a heavy hand."
Alex snorted. "I can take it. That was nothing."
"Yeah? Well, you're probably right. My butt's more delicate than yours, I
guess. Still, there's no reason for you to decline my offer then, Alex."
"Stop calling me that!" Alex ground out in frustration.
Mulder was taken aback. "What—you want me to call you 'Krycek'?"
"No! Just—" Alex stopped, not wanting to elaborate further. He winced
and put his hand to his face. How could he explain what it did to him to
hear Mulder call him that? In any tone of voice, rather than the cold
inflection he used before, when saying 'Krycek'... his heart was beating too
fast and he was afraid that if Mulder kept using that friendly—even kind
—and gentle tone of voice he was going to break down into tears in front of
him. And that was simply and wholly unacceptable. "Look, I'm tired,
okay? Not tonight. I can't; I don't want to deal with this right now."
"How about tomorrow?"
Alex let his head drop backwards and he laughed almost soundlessly. "Damned
if I know. I guess if I'm still here and it's the only option I have, I
could put up with it. Sure." He lifted his head and regarded him, puzzled.
"Why? I mean, why just that? How is that going to help clear things
between us?"
"As an arrangement, and as an honorable one that we both accept." Mulder's
tone was entirely too reasonable.
Alex's eyes narrowed and he lifted his chin to regard him suspiciously now.
"Did Walter put you up to this?"
"Not exactly. I did talk with him. But I need something to give me
closure where you're concerned and I don't think just an apology from you, a
handshake and another kiss on the cheek is going to make it all better."
"So that's your price? The cost of forgiveness sure is cheap, from you."
"Hey, take it or leave it." Mulder stopped, and added meaningfully, "Alex."
Alex sucked in a breath. "Alright then, Fox. I accept. But no
restraints. I can't do this with cuffs or anything."
"Did I mention any?" Mulder said, reprovingly.
Alex was shaking his head. "I've got to be out of my fucking mind."
"Join the club. You've been driving me out of mine," Mulder said, and then
bit his lip, wondering exactly what he'd just said. Oh well, never mind.
Alex regarded him curiously at that, his eyes glittering before he turned
away. Suddenly it dawned on him: it had been bad enough when he'd been
across Walter's lap... he'd gotten so hard... how the hell was he supposed to
lay over Mulder's knees without... Why, just being here in the man's
presence was enough to make him hard. "No," he said, swiftly. "No, I
can't do this. I can't agree to that, what you're offering. I can't."
Mulder realized it wasn't panic in his voice; it was something else. "Why
not?" he asked, out of sheer curiosity.
Alex drew a silent breath. And closed his mouth. He wondered what he stood
to lose by admitting it. And thought: oh well, what the hell. "Because it
won't be," he hesitated, "a punishment."
Mulder was glad Walter had confided in him earlier. He immediately knew
what Alex was talking about. Now, how to get around this without revealing
that? "Why not?"
"Because it's no different to any other time you've hit me in the past."
Alex knew he had a point. Just not the one he really meant.
Mulder nodded in agreement. "I know. But this is under controlled
conditions."
Alex laughed, once, derisively. "You don't believe that any more than I
do."
Mulder shrugged. "Okay, have it your way. I would have thought that a
simple spanking, consisting of, oh, say—fifty swats, would clear matters
between us? Seems a small price to me, considering."
Damn it... they were still only discussing it and Alex was already sporting a
very stiff erection he didn't need right now. For god's sake, how was he
supposed to do this?
Mulder had noticed. Alex might have felt better if he knew that Mulder was,
too. Mulder, however, was more used to being erect in Alex's presence. He
felt a little like Pavlov's dog—place him near Alex and woof! There we
go: lift-off. He was gradually getting used to it and right now it was
almost ignorable. He was too curious to see which way Alex would go.
Alex bit his lower lip. Maybe he was being silly for turning down this
offer. Christ, everything forgiven, for that? What he'd had to go
through since arriving here... was all this really worth it? Even as he asked
the question, he knew the answer. Hoarsely, he said, "Alright. Alright!"
And sighed. Quickly, he asked, "Where are we going to do this? Here?
Right now?"
Mulder wondered what had made him decide to accept. "Yeah, here and now, if
that's okay with you."
"It isn't, but we might as well get it over with," Alex growled, standing.
Mulder sat up straight on the couch, suddenly taken aback. He found himself
wondering if he was ready for this, right now. Why not? Maybe because he
wasn't sure he could stop himself from jumping Alex if the man were to come
while being punished across his knees. He thought perhaps they should
wait; after all, Walter was sleeping upstairs... and then realized this was
probably easier for Walt to overhear than Alex's screaming during his
nightmares the night before last.
He kept his knees apart and patted his left knee. "Lean over this one,
against the edge of the couch, here. Right over the seat. Uh, without the
pants, Alex," he reminded him.
Alex swore to himself and undid his pants, pushing them down roughly and
quickly kneeling to lean over his left knee and thigh, which was right up
against the edge of the couch. Alex wondered at the position and then found
himself offering a deeply relieved prayer of thanks up to some unknown deity
—this way, his arousal would be pressed up against the side of the couch,
not directly in contact with Mulder's leg.
Then had to suppress a gasp as Mulder's left hand reached down to pull his
briefs down too, exposing his tightened buttocks. The red stain from the
previous day had faded already; there were a few lines of welts still but
they were healing fast. It was true that Alex healed quickly, and could
take probably twice the amount of punishment that Mulder could.
A shiver ran through Alex though, and left him trembling slightly. "Damn
it, just get on with it!" he said, brusquely.
Needled slightly, Mulder lifted his hand and brought it down with a crack.
Alex didn't move in the slightest. Mulder began to swat him seriously,
counting them in his head, letting his hand fly fast and furious.
Soon, there was a dark blush on the perfect mounds of Alex's ass; Mulder
could only imagine the actual color in better light. The firelight wasn't
enough to illuminate it properly. He kept at it though, slapping and
punishing that perfect skin, enjoying the way Alex twitched involuntarily at
first, and then began little squirming motions as if trying to avoid his
hand.
Alex was making small noises, in his throat, wishing he wasn't pushed right
up against the couch. Every time Mulder's hand landed on his ass, his cock
was pressed harder against it with each contact. Much more of this and he
didn't think he could withstand it.
Having him leaning over his leg was so good... Mulder's hand began to hurt
and he suddenly realized what Walt had to go through. He stopped at forty,
breathing hard, and enjoying the way Alex moved, expecting the next one.
When it didn't land, Alex grew nervous. He was so hard, his cock was
dripping. "Mulder—Fox, are we done?"
"Not quite. You've got ten more," Mulder said softly. "Are you enjoying
this, Alex?"
"No, I'm not. And if you don't mind, I'd like to take the rest now?" Alex
was sardonic but he was still shaking slightly.
"I think you're lying, Alex. Are you lying?"
"No!" And he wasn't; he didn't want to be so hard, so achingly hard from
having Mul—Fox's hand touching him, however hard and stinging it was...
Mulder licked his lips. "Are you hard?"
Jesus Christ. Alex felt annoyed now. Not to mention humiliated. Maybe
that was idea, though. And in a small voice, he replied, "Yes." But at
this point he was so goddamned hard he didn't care what Fox thought.
"I'll make a deal with you," Mulder said. "If you haven't come by the time
we're through here, I'll suck you off myself."
A bolt of pure want rocked through Alex and he roughly answered, "Sure
thing." Breathing hard, he waited.
Mulder quickly landed several more slaps to his already-ablaze butt cheeks,
and waited a good three seconds between each of the last five.
His hand smarted. And curious, he traced his fingers over the reddened
skin, making Alex move once more, as they trailed tiny fire licks across the
punished surface, so hot, so red.
He pulled his briefs up over them then, and helped Alex climb onto his knees
before him, and then regarded him, kneeling before him as he was. Mulder
couldn't wait any longer. He lunged forward, pulling him against him and
mashing their lips together, sucking and devouring Alex's mouth. With a
stifled whimper, Alex returned it with as much intensity. Tearing himself
away, Mulder said raggedly, "Get up on the couch. Now."
Alex did so, shaking, barely noticing the fire that raked across his bottom
as he quickly pulled down his briefs all the way down past his knees and sat
down on the couch. Was he really going to do this? Oh god, just... he
had to be dreaming. Had to be.
Mulder was on his knees in front of him, running his hands along his thighs,
touching his flanks, his waist. Then trailing an admiring hand over his
skin to touch his drawn-up balls. Mulder placed another hand on the hard,
weeping cock before him, wondering how he had managed to ignore how much he
wanted him until now. It leapt in his hand and Alex gave a strangled little
moan. "G-god, please, Fox, please... Fox!"
Awkwardly, Alex reached down his own hand and placed it in Mulder's hair,
not hard, just urging.
Leaning forward, Mulder pressed his face into the join of Alex's thigh and
crotch; nosing him. The fresh fragrance of the warm tufted hair was
intoxicating. He wanted to just lay there and bury his nose; but he didn't
want to delay. He made up his mind to remember to do this later, when Alex
was too tired and satiated to care. If he lingered too long Alex might get
the impression he was enjoying it rather too much at his expense. A deal was
a deal, after all. He grinned and closed his eyes. And opened his mouth,
taking him in.
Alex felt like all the blood had rushed out of his head and was now
journeying in a mass exodus to his groin. He couldn't help the moans and
groans that were induced with each lick of Mulder's tongue, each time the
head of his cock was slid through those lush lips.
He opened his eyes to the sight of a happy Fox peering up at him from
beneath warm, dark eyes that made his fingers itch to capture his face and
stroke the eyelids, trace along his brows. Mulder's tongue was twirling
around the crown of his cock like it was candy and his slight smile as he
did so made him look impish, leaving no doubt as to how much he was enjoying
this.
He couldn't bear the sight; he should really have kept his eyes closed, he
would have lasted longer. As it was, the view of Mulder's mouth sucking on
him expertly was enough to make him tense and shove himself forward in
jerking thrusts, unable to stop himself, as he felt the energy and all his
conscious thought begin to race along the same path his blood had taken
earlier—straight out his cock and into the waiting mouth that sucked it
all down. He couldn't help the muffled shriek that he emitted as he came,
quite beyond recognition as his own voice.
When he came to, he was having difficulty catching his breath. And Mulder
was saying, "Hey, Alex. That's pretty impressive."
And the admiration in his tone was just—just—enough to make Alex feel
that he'd done something right somehow and to his alarm, and frustrated
shame, he began to cry again. It just wasn't fair. He couldn't even enjoy
orgasms anymore without tears. Fuck it all. What had Walter done to
him?! It was like some kind of dam broke and now he had become this weepy,
wet thing that couldn't even handle a blow job... But then, this was Fox
Mulder who'd just swallowed his load... Talk about a wet dream come true. He
just wished it had meant as much to Fox as it did to him.
Suddenly he wished he were upstairs, outside, somewhere else, anywhere but
here. It was just sex, wasn't it? To seal the deal—punishment enough.
He turned his face to the side. Well, it was punishment, indeed, for him.
And he would have stood, would have risen to leave if it weren't for the
fact that Mulder was nuzzling against him once more, moving up, leaning in
to kiss him, to lick at his face, lick away his tears. Mulder drew back,
thoughtfully, at the taste of them.
It was delicious; the taste of salt, of tears, sweat and come, a cocktail of
oral sensation that made his cock twitch and stiffen even more eagerly.
Mulder knew what he wanted. He slid out of Alex's lap now and pulled the
thick bearskin rug closer to the fire. And began taking off his clothes.
Alex jerked his head up as he realized what he was doing. He wiped his
eyes. What the hell—?
Mulder was naked in the firelight, his skin burnished and glowing. He
looked like a magnificent animal, all supple and toned. Alex found it
speechlessly beautiful to see him like this; it was like being treated to a
vision he never thought he'd be allowed to witness.
Mulder lay down upon the rug, voluptuously, his cock waving in the air like
a trophy. He murmured, "Alex, get your ass over here."
Alex got up, unsteadily, and went to join him, pulling off his own clothes
until he was as naked, and sinking down beside him. He lay upon his back,
in the same position. Mulder leaned up on one elbow, his gaze raking hotly
and possessively over him, leaving him feeling slightly flayed. Finally,
with a scowling twist of his lips, Mulder said, "We're going to need lube, I
think. I'll be right back. Don't move," he shook a finger at him as he
climbed to his feet and then practically ran upstairs to disappear into the
bathroom.
Alex lay beside the fireplace, feeling the heat as though it were the flames
themselves licking at him. How had this happened? When did it turn and
change into something else? He felt strange, as though he had taken some
unknown drug. He turned and watched the fire dance and leap. I asked for
this, he thought, and I got what I wanted. Maybe I did die somewhere
along the line and this is heaven. Or I'm dreaming and it's under the
influence of some chemical substance... But reality remained in place and the
fire was hot. In fact, he didn't realize how tired he was until now.
Next thing he knew, Mulder had returned and was laughing, sniggering through
his teeth at him as he crouched beside him. "Hey, wake up. I found it.
Turn over."
Oh. The knowledge of what Mulder wanted was enough to rouse him abruptly.
Ah well. It was only fair, after what Mulder had done for him, he supposed.
He rolled over, and was immediately clambered upon by Mulder who was
obviously very intent upon slathering his crack with plenty of lube, his
fingers swiftly opening him and sliding in and out of him. He gasped at the
intrusion, and wondered just how difficult this was going to be. He
realized too that anything at all was good, as long as it was Fox.
But Mulder was not in the mood to waste any time, having waited already
throughout the entire time he'd been sucking Alex. He wanted him. Now. He
quickly moved into position, sliding his cock into his tight asshole with
one swift motion, spearing him with a few inches. Alex gasped again,
louder, and couldn't help moaning with a terrifying sensation of
simultaneous pain and pleasure. Mulder began a hard, rocking swell against
him, pushing inside of him deeper and deeper with each thrust.
It felt barbaric, almost ritual. He was claiming him; the teeth Alex
suddenly felt in the back of his neck brought this sharply into focus for
him. That long, hard length was pressing against his prostate with every
plunge and bump, and now the tightness of his ass as well as the level of
urgency Mulder had been brought to finally peaked out and Mulder was shoving
into him repeatedly with loud shouts. Mulder was then abruptly shuddering
atop him, shooting inside of him with quick, hard little thrusts, and the
sounds Mulder made ignited something inside him, as well as the repeated
pressure on his gland from that battering cock... and when Mulder's hand
reaching down to grab his own stiffened penis, he came, again. Not as hard
as before, certainly. The keen edge had been taken off it, particularly as
he'd already been with Walter earlier that day, too. But it was still
lovely, luscious, long, protracted and deliciously sweet.
He was bent over, open-mouthed, breathing in gasps as Mulder panted over
him. Finally, he had to move. He tried to pull to one side only to have
Mulder wrap his legs and arms about him more tightly. "Where do you think
you're going?" Mulder growled.
"Please, Fox, I have to move. I'm getting squashed here. Just let me up;
I'm not going anywhere."
Mulder reluctantly let him move to one side and lay back down beside him on
the rug.
Alex sighed to himself. He didn't want this to end. "Are we clear then?
Everything, between us?"
"Yeah, for now."
A warning went off in his head. "For now?"
Mulder grinned. " You're going to be paying it off over time, for as long
as you're here. Your ass is mine, Alex. For good. "
Alex's eyes narrowed. "Fine. So is my heart."
Mulder shifted beside him, getting more comfortable. "What do you mean?"
"Walter told you, didn't he?"
Mulder sniffed and frowned a little. "Told me what?"
"That being spanked by either of you turns me on. It never has before, with
anyone else."
"Oh, that. Yeah. He said he felt he'd betrayed you by telling me; please
don't blame him. But he only told me so that I would know where the line
was, so I could do it with the proper level of responsibility."
"Bunch of crap," Alex said, but he smiled slightly.
"Yeah, I think so too. See, I was listening outside the door when you were
with Walt yesterday."
Alex didn't really know how to take that at first. Then he began to
remember exactly what it was he'd said in there... And he muttered, "Damn
it, that was private, Fox." God, how could he stand this. It wasn't
fair.
"Well, did you ever intend to tell me?"
Alex was still. Finally, he said, "No."
"And I know Walt wouldn't have told me. I'd say I was lucky to overhear."
"S-so where does that leave 'us'?"
"I guess—that you love me, and I'm in love with you. Sound okay to you?"
His eyes dropped, almost filled again. And he bit his lower lip suddenly,
trying to stifle the overwhelming hope and tenderness that went over him at
this. Alex turned onto his side, so he could touch him. He lifted his hand
to stroke Mulder's forehead, his cheek, the line of his jaw. "It was never
my decision. It's always been up to you."
"Well, it's time we changed that, isn't it?" Mulder looked uncomfortable,
with that subtle reference to the past.
Alex smiled sadly, a little indulgently. "I think the moment I fell I love
with you was when I saw you again in Hong Kong. Remember, in Kallenchuk's
office? Everything after that happened so fast... but I think that's when it
was. I just remember thinking it was so good to see you again, even though
things were so bad."
Mulder grinned a little shamefacedly. "I think I enjoyed grinding you into
that phone bank a bit too much. But I don't think I actually loved you
until I saw you get out of that truck. When you'd joined that militia
group? I was so upset about your hair. I couldn't believe how short it
was. I hated it. Of course, by then, I was so angry I didn't really want
to let myself feel anything else." He stopped. "Listen, Alex... I'm sorry
for hurting you." He looked right into his eyes, not avoiding him. "I
didn't want to want you."
Alex smiled without humor briefly. "I know. I'm sorry too. Just, I never
thought we'd end up here. I keep thinking I'll wake up."
Mulder pulled him closer and luxuriated in the feel of their bodies pressed
tight against each other, naked, in the firelight. "Then sleep with me.
Until we both do." And he placed his arms around him, holding him.
Stroking him. They fell asleep like that, murmuring and holding, just
being... Together.
Fried Eggs
he sight of Fox Mulder in an apron studiously making waffles and preparing
a bowl of fruit while intently looking after several other pans on the stove
was unexpected. Alex stood in the kitchen doorway, blinking, his dark hair
tousled, wearing only a long-sleeved shirt and sweats. He was starting to
shiver, but didn't notice. He gaped at Mulder and wondered if this was a
sight he should get used to.
